The Twelfth Rule
by Clazzie
Summary: Spoilers for season 10 Damned if you Do. What happens over the summer. Rated K for safety. Summary Sucks. I promise it's better. TIVA! I don't own NCIS


It all started when they handed in their badges. That first week, there was nothing to do, no cases to solve, no cold case files to read through, no paperwork to file. For Ziva David, it was hell, for Tony DiNozzo it was the start of an epic movie marathon, in which he was determined to watch every movie he owned.

Ziva yawned and looked at her watch. The time read ten past two in the morning, early enough that no one would be awake and she could do what she pleased. However, she didn't, she was too tired and now that there was no daily information keeping her mind active, she was brooding. Brooding over Somalia, remembering things that she didn't want to remember, also, the nightmares were back. Saleem smashing her face in on a nightly basis, and her father, his body, broken and bloodied, lying on the floor of Director Vance's home. That's why she was sitting at ten past two in the morning, a glass of red wine in one hand and a book in the other. She wasn't letting herself sleep, falling asleep was too dangerous, and tonight was no different, although, at least (she thought) she would be able to stay awake for a little while longer, savor the nightmare free time that she had, before she woke up, screaming for someone who wasn't there.

Seven kilometers away, Tony DiNozzo had just finished watching the Alfred Hitchcock movie 'The Birds'. As much as he loved all of his movies, he was bored, he'd done nothing but watch movies for the past week and he was wondering how real life was, how his friends were, and especially, how Ziva was. The last time he'd seen her he'd been at the Naval base two days after they all handed in their badges, collecting his gear, she was there, no make up, bags under her eyes. She looked beaten down and he was worried about her. He glanced at the clock on the wall, twelve past two it said. HE so desperately wanted to call Ziva, to see how she was doing, to see what was wrong, but she was probably asleep and if he called her now she might end up shooting a wall. The phone call would have to wait for the morning, he decided, and now was time for another movie, possibly Mr and Mrs Smith.

Ziva's eyes flew open, tears fading into her hair and her hands clammy. She clenched ehr teeth, holding in a scream. The nightmare had been worse this time. Tied to a chair, a sea of faceless men, Saleem's men surrounding her, some holding cattle prods, others just using their bare hands. Poking and prodding her, beating and jeering at her. Ziva shuddered just thinking about it. She rolled over and turned on her lamp, hoping that its warm glow would cast away the blackness in her mind. After half an hour, when her heart was still racing she couldn't stand it any longer. She grabbed her gun from under her pillow, put on some running clothes and left her house.

She didn't know where she was going, and at 3:30 in the morning she didn't really care. All she knew was that she needed to run. Ten minutes later she found herself outside "his" door. How she got there she didn't know, but what she did know was that she could hear a movie playing softly and none of DiNozzo's distinctive snoring. Getting out her phone she dialled his number. After a couple of seconds and a few crashes he picked up.

"DiNozzo." He answered.

"Tony, Hi. I was checking that you were awake".

"Yeah, I guess I am, I'm kind of having a movie marathon. Do you need something?"

"I can't tell you on the phone, can I come over?"

"Uh, yeah? Sure? You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, really, I'll be there in one second exactly."

"Ziva you drive fast, but you can't get here in one second, not even if you drive in a straight line." Without hanging up, Ziva waited for a second and then knocked on his door. After a couple of seconds his door opened and he peeked around. "Ziva David." He said. "How long have you been waiting outside my door?" She looked at him.

"To tell the truth, only, about five minutes."

"Then why, Miss David, are you at my door at 3:45 in the morning?" She looked at him again.

"Can I at least come in and sit down before I explain?" Tony laughed and opened the door wider.

"Welcome (once again) to my humble abode, and why are you wearing running clothes?"


End file.
